


Adjustments

by Hummingbird1759



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, Drabbles, Family, Fluff, Gen, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s07e25 Endgame (Star Trek: Voyager)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:07:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29455026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hummingbird1759/pseuds/Hummingbird1759
Summary: Series of drabbles about Voyager's senior staff after the ship returns to the Alpha Quadrant.
Comments: 38
Kudos: 20





	1. Vulcan

It’s illogical.

_Kal-toh_ has long been easy for him. He learned to play at the age of four, over one hundred years ago. This opponent – his grandson – is far less practiced than he, having learned to play just two years ago.

And yet.

A few weeks ago, he would not have believed this possible. A few weeks ago, he suffered defeat from a similarly inexperienced opponent. 

It’s illogical to celebrate such a small victory, but he feels a sliver of pride anyway.


	2. Starfleet Headquarters

Just a hologram.

He has made dozens of new discoveries, with untold benefit to the Federation’s citizens. He has saved the crew repeatedly, fought with and for them, celebrated with them, mourned with them, attended to their deaths, delivered their children. 

But that doesn’t matter to Starfleet.

According to them, he is just a hologram. Just another subroutine, another appliance. No more worthy of consideration than a replicator or a warp core.

He hopes they at least give one of his mobile emitters to Janeway.


	3. South Carolina

His mother chirps, “Why don’t you call Libby?”

“Mom, Libby’s married and has a kid,” he groans, sprawled on his childhood bed.

“What about-“

“My Academy classmates are all in space and unlike me, my high school friends actually have lives,” he grumbles.

“Harry, you can’t just-“

Teenage moodiness oozes from him as he moans, “Mom, I’ve been on duty for seven years. If I want to lay around, I will.”

“Leave him alone, honey,” his father chides. 

His mother frowns and walks off muttering, “what happened to my sweet little boy?”

He can’t remember ever being a sweet little boy.

 _Two more months of this._ He wonders if he can convince Starfleet to cut his leave short.


	4. Dorvan V

He doesn’t belong here.

But he doesn’t belong anywhere else, either.

He hasn’t returned to his homeworld in over a decade. So much has changed - the people he knew gone, the places unrecognizable. His sister’s hair is gray, her boys are now men.

Seven had hoped she’d get a better reception here than she did on Earth. It was a vain hope; Sekaya made it clear that she didn’t approve of their relationship.

“You have to know that this isn’t right.”

“Just because she’s an ex-Borg-“

“It’s not that. She barely had a childhood and now you’re expecting her to act like an adult. You need to give her time to grow up, little brother.”

He hates it when Sekaya is right.


	5. Federation Transport Ship, Terran System

She watches the blue marble of Earth recede in the porthole. She supposes she should feel something, but as usual, she does not.

She was on Earth as a child, but she doesn’t remember it. Returning meant nothing. Neither did meeting any long-lost family members. Instead, Earth was unnerving. At best, she received curious stares. At worst, outright hostility.

 _Vulcan will likely be easier_ , she tells herself. Vulcans are less... messy than humans. More straightforward. Fewer emotions to complicate matters. 

She turns away from the porthole. Earth was a failed experiment. So, for the time being, was romance. They were irrelevant now. Time to begin anew.


	6. California Coast

Alone. 

When was the last time she was alone? Sure, she’d been by herself in her quarters every night _(every damned night)_ on _Voyager_ , but it was impossible to feel alone there. Impossible to ignore the fact that she was in a glorified metal can with 150 other people. 

But now, three months after her return, she is alone - her mother and sister finally allowed her out of their sight for a few hours, the media is distracted with the Parisses Squares championship, and there’s no one else as far as she can see. 

She digs her toes into the cold sand, inhaling the salty Pacific breeze. 

For the first time in seven years, she is at peace.


	7. San Francisco, Part 1

“No blood wine?” Julia Paris says in a surprised tone.

“Nope,” B’Elanna says, struggling to keep her voice neutral. “Never really liked it.”

“Well! I thought all Klingons loved blood wine!”

B’Elanna grits her teeth. “You forget, Julia, I’m half human too.”

“Of course, of course. Must be your human half that doesn’t like it.” Julia winks.

“Right.” _Will it be this way when Miral gets older?_

“Just don’t tell me you like gagh,” Julia says, wrinkling her nose.

B’Elanna makes a face. “Donuts, on the other hand...”

Smiling, Julia asks the replicator for two glazed donuts and hands one to B’Elanna. “A woman after my own heart.”


	8. New Talax

She said there might be a wormhole, and she’d contact him the next day.

She didn’t.

Not the next day, or any of the almost two hundred days since.

If anyone asks, he says that he’s certain they returned to the Alpha Quadrant and they’re probably too busy reconnecting with their families to find a way to get a message to him. Some days, he believes it.

Some nights, he wakes up in a cold sweat after a nightmare about an exploding starship, and he doesn’t get back to sleep. On those mornings, his wife plants a gentle kiss on the top of his head and makes sure he has extra pastries.

He knows that if anyone could’ve made it back, they could.

But he wonders.


	9. San Francisco, Part 2

His father plays blocks with Miral, the baby clapping her hands gleefully.

“Look at that coordination!” Owen beams. “She’ll be a starship pilot!”

Tom’s jaw clenches. Family pressure ruined his life; he can’t let it ruin Miral’s. He almost tells his father to back off, let Miral decide for herself.

But he stops.

They finally have a truce; can he risk breaking it? 

_Yes. He’s wrecked enough childhoods._

“Or maybe she’ll be an engineer, like her mommy,” Tom says diplomatically.

Owen shrugs, “Or maybe she’ll be a musician, like her Auntie Moira.” He picks Miral up and spins her around, and she laughs uproariously.

Tom startles, remembering Owen’s rage when his daughters refused to join Starfleet. “Yeah. Maybe,” he replies. _Maybe I’m not the only one who changed._


End file.
